The Violet Sector: 2378
by SpiderWolve
Summary: War is afoot and four races of people fight for survival in their isolated part of the galaxy. Follow Cronian and the freinds he finds along the way as they fight, die, and are reborn in the constant struggle for dominance. This, is The Violet Sector.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Cronian exhaled.

It had been a few moments before he realized he had actually been holding his breath. He tried to relax as soon as he was clear of the violently spinning asteroid that had moments ago threatened to smash him and his blue and grey Flight of Independence starship fighter in to fragments of metal and flesh, but relaxing after one had nearly been mashed in to powder was not something that was easily done. Once he had cleared the spinning rock, Cronian stabilized the fighter, throttled back on the forward thrust and immediately brought all his attention to his heads up display (HUD) to check for enemies that were within his short range sensors; sensors that were built in to the sharp nose of the Independence. Above and all around flashes of weapons fire, engine thrusts, and explosions rocked the already chaotic asteroid field as the four (Ajaxian, Boraxian, Krilgorian, and Tibran) Legions fought a furious battle for control of the very dangerous, but strategically important sector. The battle itself was less then an hour old, and Cronian had somehow managed to fly much deeper in to the vast expanse of Asteroids then he had intended as he pursued a small, very fast and heavily armed Krilgorian Microw Fighter; but he didn't pay his location much mind, since he also had managed to lose the Microw in the chaos of battle that had ensued and developed in to a monster of its own.

"Ok, where'd you go you devil…" he muttered, trying to sort out who was who out of the blue, yellow, red and green colors that were showing up on his HUD. "Damn thing," he muttered, and readjusted the range on the HUD so it would show enemies and friendlies who were within a hundred kilometers down to a distance of twenty. "I've got to figure out how to keep that thing from auto-adjusting…hah! There you are!"

Cronian exclaimed as he found the red delta shaped icon he was looking for on his HUD ; the IFF identifying the pilot's name as Legion. _ His name is Legion? Parents myst have thought very highly of this one, _he thought, firing off his maneuvering thrusters that were placed underneath the nose of his fighter that swiftly pivoted so it faced ninety degrees up from where the craft had been facing previously. Once Cronian was satisfied with the direction he was pointing in he immediately pushed the throttle forward, and with a gratifying jolt to the back of the seat the fighter propelled forward past lazily drifting asteroids and towards an unseen adversary that bore the name of _Legion_.

Rolling the fighter craft to the left, Cronian slipped past another asteroid, and then incidentally through a cloud of metal debris that was still glowing hot from the where it disintegrated down to from the space worthy craft it had been.

"Damnation, of all the places in the Sector, this war has to start in the biggest asteroid field around," he muttered, rolling right before pulling up past a potato shaped rock, closing in on LEGN. "The bugger is quick!"

Pulling left on the yoke, Cronian took the fighter in to a tight turn back to the left as he continued to close in on LEGN, who now seemed to be doing orbits around an asteroid big enough to be considered a small planetoid._ There he is_, he thought as he spotted the crimson metal shine brightly from the light reflecting from one of the many nearby stars. _Just need to close on him now…_he kicked the forward thrust up to full while swerving to the right to traverse a trail of asteroids leading to the planetoid that LEGN was orbiting, as if searching for the right person, or opportunity to strike.

Ducking down under the trail of rocks, rolling over so the belly of his fighter skimmed the surface of the rocks, he craned his neck up to make sure LEGN hadn't changed his own course before bringing his attention back to his HUD to verify that he was also clear of any additional active enemies nearby. Once verified, he kicked his maneuvering thrusters back in to action, quickly propelling him up towards the underside of the dark crimson fighter that was piloted and controlled by LEGN.

Activating his weapons systems, Cronian sighted in on the delta shaped Krilgorian Microw fighter on his HUD (where a targeting site had appeared upon the weapon system activating) and waited two long seconds for the Microw to come within range of his guns. _C'mon guns, actuate…_ he thought and almost a split second later the range finder for his weapons toned green and he pulled the trigger and let loose a stream of super heated plasma rounds at the Microw that had yet to acknowledge his presence; and as if Legion suddenly snapped out of a short nap, the Microw juked quickly away and down as two plasma bolts shot by its crimson red hull.

"Son of a---" Cronian exclaimed and out of pure instinct rolled ninety degrees to the left, barely avoiding colliding with the speeding Microw that had just a moment ago been dead in his sites. "Oh no you don't, you won't be getting away from me that easily," he said, cutting all power to his engines, yanking the fighters yoke up causing the maneuvering thrusters to kick him around one hundred and eighty degrees the opposite direction to looking straight down at the orange glow of the Legion's aft engines.

Without hesitating, Cronian forced his fighter forward at maximum speed, keeping the Microw in his sites as he shot toward a rather dense cloud of asteroids, where dozens of small star fighters flew around and between the rocks, exchanging fire with each other while using the rocks as cover. Of course not all were lucky or good enough to avoid being lined up for a kill, and quite often a bright flash from an exploding pilot and fighter would fill his vision. While the battle ahead ensued, Cronian watched as the numbers next to the Legion, who he had set as the primary target, grew rapidly larger as the Microw continued to lengthen the distance between it and Cronians Flight. It was obvious to Cronian by this time that the Krilgorian Microw Fighter was much faster then his Flight of Independence as he forced all the available power to his engines that he could safely allocate, only to have Legion continue to pull away and the only thing he could do is hope that Legion would inexplicably slow down, or get engaged with another slower fighter.

_PLING!_

"What in the world…" Cronian muttered and looked down at the read flashing button that read 'COMMS' and pushed it to get rid of the plinging noise that was infuriating his ears. Once pushed, a flood of voices came at him, making his quite cockpit seem very crowded all of the sudden.

"Where is everybody, I can't seem to…oh--"

"Sulimo, are you there? Do you read? Damnit."

"There's a lot of yellow Bor's over here, could use some help!"

"Where are--I suggest you pull back, your deep within Boraxian controlled territory…"

"Sure, now you tell me, oh wait..I..never--"

"Was that Skirm?"

"Sounded like it--"

"All pilots, cut the chatter! Leadership has been elected for the Ajaxian Legion…"

"Wouldn't it sound better as a 'Ajaxian Navy,' I'm sure we have more then…"

"I said cut the chatter!"

Cronian couldn't help but smile as he refocused on the pursuit of LEGN who was now a tiny speck near a gaggle of floating rocks, where according to his scanners about half a dozen other Krilgorian ships sat, waiting. _Ok, I'll just pull in behind these 'roids and wait for something else to come along that doesn't have a bunch of friends nearby…_he thought as he killed the power to his engines, fired up his thrusters and moved in behind a lumbering rock to stay out of sight.

"…anyway, as I was saying, Leadership has been elected for our military, as well for the other Legions, which means everybody is going to be fighting a much more organized war. So if you're far from friends here in the Asteroids or anywhere else, I suggest you return to where you have some Blue around. Return and relocate. Coordinates for regrouping are being transmitted to all pilots. That is all, you may go back to chattering now."

"I have a hankering for some ice cream. Anybody…"

Cronian turned down the volume on the voice coming in to his helmet and looked up at his HUD, where in the upper right corner an arrow flashed, pointing in the direction he needed to go to get back to where everybody was. _Those must be the new coordinates_, he nodded, fired his engines back up and kicked the nose of his Flight around facing the direction the arrows were pointing. Right before he throttled forward, the proximity alarm shrieked to life, startling Cronian so much as he felt he could have leaped out of the cockpit. Looking up, he gulped as he watched a small 'roid sail straight for the asteroid that he was using as cover. _Talk about being stuck between a rock and a hard place!_ Jerking the yoke quickly he rolled the Flight to the right and dove straight down as the proximity alarm continued to scream at him, letting him know he was about to become one with an asteroid; his maneuvering thrusters firing quickly and immediately as he piloted the space craft around the dozens of smaller rocks that were peppering back and forth from each asteroid.

"Crap, crap, crap, crap!" he said, and watched as the two rocks converged, collided and shattered, spewing smaller rocks at him, his shields lighting up as several made contact.

"Oh great…" Cronian groaned as he saw several red deltas on his HUD break away from their original position and head straight for him. "This can't be good. They must have seen me. Cronian to any nearby freindlies," he said, keying up his comms gear, speaking through the microphone in his helmet. "I am in need of assistance, multiple Krilgorian fighters in hot pursuit; if anybody is available to assist, I'd very much appreciate it!"

"Cronian," an unfamiliar feminine voice spoke in to Cronians ear. "You are deep within Krilgorian controlled space---"

"Tell me about it," Cronian muttered, triple checking that his engines were indeed at full power as he sailed through the colliding field of rocks.

"---chances of anybody being available to assist you are slim."

"Why even bothering answering if you're just going to give me bad news?"

"Just trying to be helpful…"

"Ah, thanks anyways," Cronian said, trying not to sound too dismissive. "Anybody else wanna be helpful, now is the time---" Cronian was cut off in surprise as the entirety of his star fighter shook violently as he was hit from behind, his shields flashing quickly from a green to an amber color.

"Oh hell no!"

Wide eyed and completely alert, Cronian peered back behind him quickly._More Microws, _he thought quickly. _Gaining on me very quickly!_ With that thought Cronian was suddenly struck with an idea. His fighter rocking violently as he was struck again, his sheilds flashing to a deep shade of red, Cronian cut all power to his engines, and activated all thrusters up on the nose of his fighter causing his Flight to be propelled backwards straight for the oncoming Microws.

Another hit to the sheilds.

The tiny monitor flashing, warning that the sheilds were all but depleted.

Over head, a Microw passed within inches of his cockpit.

The range finder on his targeting bracket toned green.

Cronian exhaled and pulled the trigger.

The maneuver had been a brilliant move.

Two Microw's, their pilots surprised by the sudden reversal of direction that Cronians fighter had been traveling in, only slightly altered their courses so as not to collide in to Cronian and each other, and passed directly over his sheildless craft. As the nearest Microw passed over the reversing fighter, the Flight suddenly opened fire with a trail of hot-blue plasma rounds right in to the backside of the nearest surprised Microw where they exploded in to the chaotic, but idle, hyper drive causing the fighter to vanish in to a ball of intensely hot light with only small fragments of metal flying off in to collide with a random asteroid or two. What was left of the Microw spun silently as a glowing chunk of twisted metal that resembled nothing of its previous shape where momentarily the light glowing off the wreck seemed to shimmer and distort as something obscure and unseen quickly passed by.

----

Diamondblade sat in the cockpit of his safely cloaked Ajaxian Eagle of Tanurdia, watching the outnumbered Flight fight to stay alive. He had heard Cronians call for help over the Ajaxian open communication frequencies and immediately flew on over to his location without acknowledging over the comms that he was nearby and enroute. Doing so would cause him to radiate a signal out from his cloaked vessel risking the chance that a nearby Krilgorian would detect the signal and locate his cloaked fighter; which would cancel out the usefulness of his cloaking device that was allowing him to stealth his war around an enemy fleet of fighters, bombers and repair ships. If the Krils had cloakers floating around as well, he was unaware of their existence.

Thrusting forward, then diving down with a quick snap roll that brought him underneath of and facing the opposite direction of Cronians Flight, Diamonblade deactivated the cloaking device while lining up his crosshairs on to an oncoming Microw and quickly squoze of a burst of hot blue plasma rounds. The Microw Fighter pilot, seeing the elongated shape of the Eagle shimmer in to existence as he lined up his own sites on Cronians fighter juked to the right just in time to avoid a direct hit to the fuselage but not fast enough for the rounds to rip through his left wing where violet clouds of what had been fuel billowed out in to space as the wounded fighter evaded away from the cloaker that had been at the right place at the right time to save Cronian from a certain fate.

"Diamondblade here," he said, focusing a narrow communications beam to Cronian who had rolled away. "I'll cover you, try to get out of here if you can."

----

"…here if you can." Diamondblade's voice crackled over the radion that sounded damaged.

"Th--thanks," Cronian coughed as smoke filled the cockpit.

The indicator lights in front him flickered, momentarily draping the cockpit in complete darkness of space. The damage readout that rested next to his right leg showed the schematic of his Flight of Independence pulsed red; his shields were no longer existent, and multiple hull breaches permeated the now blackened skin of his fighter, many of which were likely responsible for the power fluctuations that were now plaguing the controls, Cronian surmised. However, Cronian didn't need the damage status screen to tell him that he was in serious trouble.

Noticing that he was still drifting backwards due to his last second decision making, using his right foot, he pushed the throttle pedal down and was surprised as his rear burners hiccupped and coughed too life, causing him to move erratically forward almost out of control. _Well this definitely can't help at all…_he thought as he killed the power to his rear burners, leaving his Flight of Independence moving through space, spinning in a slow circle before Cronian reoriented with thrusters so he could see directly where he was flying.

Having long lost site of Diamondblade and his dogfight, he was left to watch the action through his three dimensional scanner display, where he watched Diamondblade pop in and out of existence as he cloaked, decloaked, fired, and cloaked again to keep the multiple Microws and various other Krilgorian attack craft that had joined in the fray from getting a positive bead on him.

"Diamondblade," Cronian said, fighting with the control yoke that was positioned inbetween his knees. "Bug out, I've got a dead stick. Thanks for the effort, no sense in us both biting it out here."

"…."

"You copy Diamond?"

"Copy," Diamondblades voice replied, grudgingly

Cronian watched as Diamondblade once again disappeared off his sensors, leaving nothing but Red Krilgorian combat craft in his wake.

_Well, here it comes, _he thought a mere moment before a missile launched from an unseen spacecraft exploded underneath the belly of his Flight. As the shockwave smashed in to the battered fighter, it carried with it incendiary hot projectiles that ripped right in to the Flights volatile fuel cell and with only a mere seconds pause ignited the craft and Cronian in to bright ball of yellow and violet flame before he could even brace himself for the fate that diamond blade had only delayed.


	2. Chapter 2

-1Ch 2

It was a strange feeling floating in nothing at least nothing but a thick white aura that enveloped anything else that he may have been able to see otherwise

_Is he ok? I think that's the most violent reaction I've seen yet…_

He looked around quickly, peering in the whiteness, searching for where the woman's voice could be coming from.

_Well, its his first time you know…_

A male voice.

"Hello?"

_Do they all behave like that for their first time?_

"Behave like what? Where are you?" He asked, growing increasingly frustrated.

_Not all, they're reactions vary. Some are just stunned in to shock, some enjoy it, others react realistically._

_Realistically?_

"What are---" he yelled, suddenly finding himself sitting up from laying back in on a fold back chair and finding himself staring in to dark, forest green eyes that were highlighted nicely by a pair of exquisite red eyebrows. "…you talking about…

….hi?" He said, now very puzzled.

"…and sometimes we get reactions like that too." an older, gray haired man said in what had slowly dawned on him as being a 'British' accent. "Hello chap, quite a yelp you gave there."

Confused once again, he raised an eyebrow in question.

"Am I dead?"

The old man laughed a deep laugh.

"No, no. Well, you did _die_, but you're not dead," he looked at the young redheaded woman. "That makes sense, doesn't it?"

"No, it really doesn't," she said, also with the a touch of the accent.

"What's your name, chap?"

"Cronian… what do you mean I died but am not dead?'

The older man, and young woman looked at each other.

"He needs to go back," the older man said.

"That wasn't the answer you're supposed to get, is it?"

"No, he's still fully integrated in to the system still. Usually they come back normally, but a bit shaken."

"Why --"

"Uh guys," Cronian said, waving a hand in front of both individuals. "I am right here."

The old man looked at him.

"Lay back down."

"Huh, why?"

"You need to go back."

"Go back? I thought you said I died…"

"You did. But you'll wake up and this should all be an obscure dream."

Suddenly he felt two strong hands pushing down on his shoulders, and he laid back down on to the lean-back chair and was quickly surrounded by the same white nothingness that he had encountered beforehand, except this time, he found trouble breathing, as if slime was moving in to his mouth and down his throat, causing him to reflexively gag. His limbs moved sluggishly as if the density of the empty space around him suddenly swelled and now had turned in to a transparent form of jello…

----

Cronian gagged, searching for oxygen that didn't exist.

In a panic, he thrust his hands out to reach for something, anything that would help him get to much needed air, and in that moment of panic his hands came in contact with a smooth curved wall on both sides of his flailing form and on instinct and the need to survive he thrust his body upwards, propelling himself through and out of the white, sticky substance that had nearly killed him.

Then he was in the welcome, cool air for a mere moment before he landed hard on a rough metal surface that he could not see as his eyes were covered in some sort of thick residue that obscured the little light that was in front of him. More concerned about being able to breath then see, Cronian coughed and hacked violently, ejecting a large amount of the substance he had just emerged from, forming a puddle of clear goop that lay on the floor directly below his mouth until he could finally breath with little to no effort. In disgust, Cronian wiped the slimy, filmy residue away from his eyes and once again peered around the room he had suddenly found himself in.

The room was dark, with most of the lighting that dimly illuminated the walls coming from the pool of luminescent, white 'jello' he had just surfaced from. _Where am I? How did I get here? _He thought, bringing up a violent memory of his Flight of Independence shattering around him and being consumed by an incredibly hot ball fire. But there was another memory, one after he had died, but try as he might, it remained obscure and sat out of reach every time he reached for it. _Its like a dream that I was suddenly interrupted from, and now am having trouble recalling…_

Shaking his head in frustration, he looked down at his bare knees and suddenly realized how naked he was, and that there seemed to a cold draft being gently pushed down from the ceiling. Shivering, he stood and peered in to the darkness that hugged the corners where steal supports met curved wall, and once his eyes adjusted the seam of a door could barely be made out by his focusing eyes.

Walking up to the door, he pounded a fist up against its smooth surface.

"Hello? Is anybody out there?"

"Hello, Cronian," a woman's voice came from his left, eminating from the wall.

Startled, Cronian nearly jumped out of his cold skin. Looking to his left, a holographic projector that had silently slid out in to existence, illuminated and a brilliantly luminescent a miniature feminine figure stood dressed in what looked like to be a silk sheet that barely did little to hide anything from his imagination; which wasn't necessarily bad for him, he figured, sense the resulting blushing slightly warmed his cold wet skin. Even with that surpsrise, his mind raced as he began to try to make sense of what was going on.

"Uh, hi," he blushed a little more then before and quickly covered his groin with his hands. "You must be…"

"This installations AI?" she smiled at him, amused by his embarrassment she pulled a strand of bright white air behind her ear. "Yes, I am Jessibelle, I facilitate the cloning and memory placement of the Ajaxian Legions pilots after they have been killed in combat so that they can return to the front lines as soon as they are able."

"C-clones?" Cronian stammered through chattering teeth. "I'm a clone?"

"Yes, of yourself. So you are still you. Just in a body that is in much better condition then your last," she paused. "And judging from your battle records, there's a good chance your former body no longer exists."

"So, I did die…"

"Yes, but your memories are constantly backed up here deep under Ajaxus' crust, in the eventuality you may need them again. Which for you, the time you needed them began three hours ago."

"T-three, three hours? Its only been m-minutes!"

"That you recall, yes. This reintegration of memories in to a pilots clone does take some time," she said with a smile, shaking her head at his apparent shock. "Now that the process is complete, how are you feeling?

"G-great. H-happy to be alive, but can I ask you a f-favor?"

"Certainly."

"C-caan you let me out of here, a-and possibly get me a towel and some dry clothes? I-I'm freezing here."

"Oh!" she said, slightly embarrassed. "Certainly, just follow the passageway and I'll lead you to your clothing."

"Thanks…" he mumbled, and the door ahead of him swooshed open in the blink of an eye, leading in to a dimly lit passageway that he hastily slid in to.

"Just follow the blue lights on the floor and you'll get to where you need to be."

Complying, Cronian followed the blue lights that were pulsating on the sides of the floor, leading him down the hallway until he came up against another door that swooshed open as he approached it. Inside lay a single bed, draped in blue and white blankets. Laying on top of the bed was a stack of clothes and a folded towel that Cronian quickly grabbed, but as he was about to wipe himself down, he spotted an open door where a shower gleamed, as if telling him it may be a good idea to shower before using the towel to wipe the goop away. _Shower it is!_

A half an hour later, Cronian emerged out of the shower, drying himself off, relieved to be clean and warm for the first time since his 'rebirth'. Once dry, he climbed in to a one of the blue jump suits that he instantly recognized as an Ajaxian flight suit; identical to the one he had been wearing when he was vaporized somewhere in the Asteroid Fields. Satisfied that the jump suit fit, he drew his attention to the screen that appeared on the wall next the bed, illuminating to show the face of Jessibelle and her, barely clothed, upper torso visible on the screen, a view that inexplicably caused Cronians face to heat up by several degrees yet again. _An artificial intelligence should never be allowed to look that good,_ he thought before collecting himself.

"Yes…" he asked the AI.

"I just thought you would like to know you're Flight of Independence is nearly ready, but won't be complete until the morning, since its now late in the evening," she said, looking him over with a slight nod. "Good, they fit you well."

_"_Thanks…" he said, raising an eyebrow in response. "Anything else?

_"_No, that is all. Sleep well," she said and vanished.

_"_Thanks, you too, I think," he said with a slight frown. "I guess I could use a little sleep," he said and slid the jumpsuit off so that it would be ready for the morning and then slipped in to bed to energize his new body for the next day.

_--------_

Several hours later, Cronian woke from a night of deep slumber as the lights in the room automatically turned on, slid out of the single bed, and placed his bare feet on the carpeted floor. Running his hand over the dark, short hair on his head, he yawned mightily as he slowly woke up. _Who knew that being cloned could be so exhausting_, he thought as he stood and stretched. Stomach growling, he looked towards the wall where an opening had appeared and on a tray stood a healthy stack of pancakes covered in syrup with a side of bacon and a tall glass of orange juice; and of course eating utensils sat ready on the tray.

"Well, that sure is nice," he said to himself and walked over to the wall where the tray sat, picked it up and brought it over to small table that stood near the entrance to the shower. Sitting down, he quickly dug in to the meal and before he realized it, he was finishing off the orange juice and dropping a fork on the empty tray. "That was good."

"Why thank you."

Cronian nearly fell out of his chair in surprise.

"Sorry, did I surprise you?"

Cronian sputtered at Jessibelle who's holographic figure was being transmitted out of a seam in the wall.

"A little warning would have been nice, at least," he said, staring at her in mild anger. "I mean, like send a signal that your about to pop up or something."

"Sorry," she said without sounding all to ashamed. "I thought I'd stop by and let you know that your fighter is ready, and now would be a good time to pack up and go inspect it before heading back out to the front."

"It would be, huh? Why is that?"

"Well, for one the LC--"

"LC?"

"The Legion Commander…"

"Oh yeah…"

"…has issued orders for all pilots currently not engaged in other pressing matters to make haste to the asteroid fields. It seems he feels that the battle there must be won, and the Fields must be secured by our fleet. And since you've had a full nights rest and are still here on Ajaxus, then I thought it might be a good idea for you to get back as soon as possible."

"Right…"he said. "Alright, I'll be out of here in a few minutes since I don't really have much here to pack."

"Excellent," Jessibelle grinned. "Good luck, Cronian. Fly safe."

Then she vanished.

Several minutes later Cronian was riding a turbo lift with a black duffle bag in his hand, going up to the surface, where he assumed a military base lay in wait for him. Otherwise if there wasn't, he surmised that it would be hard to explain to a few surprised passerby's why he had just walked out of a turbo lift car that had just broke through the ground on some old back alley somewhere. To his relief however, the door opened to the innards of what seemed to be something that could have been military, a thought that was soon confirmed as a technician in a blue coveralls walked by while looking over a few things on a data pad.

Stepping out of the turbo lift, with the doors swooshing closed behind him, Cronian looked left then right down the hallway that he just stepped in to, looking for a sign on the sheer black walls or something pointing him in the direction of the hangar bay. Making a guess decision, he took a left and walked alongside the reflective, sheer black wall looking for anything he may have missed from where he was standing in front of the turbo-lift. After he walked for awhile, the hallway he was traveling down came to an end at an intersection where a plaque on the wall read:

HANGARS LEFT

EXIT TO CITY RIGHT

_Well that answers that question,_ he thought and turned left, walking down the eerily empty passageway, his boots clapping loudly on the smooth black metal surface. After a few minutes of walking, Cronian stopped and found himself looking down at a yellow holding line that warned him from falling over a tall steel cliff. Down below, lay nothing but a completely flat surface that appeared as if something large had been sliding over it at a rather quick speed.

A high pitched sound caught his ear, and he looked up to the left where two massive door flashed open, revealing a dark tunnel on the other side, and as if waiting for the cue from the first door an identical door on the right flashed open, momentarily forcing a gust of wind past Cronian and down in to the newly opened door. So surprised by the gust of wind, Cronian immediately was forced to correct his stance so as not to fall over from the sudden push from behind. As if that sudden surprise wasn't enough, Cronian quickly found himself falling backwards as line of passenger cars came shooting out of the tunnel before he could blink, and slowed to a halt only a little slower then it had arrived.

"You alright there?" a voice with a thick accent drifted towards his surprised form. Standing in an open door to the car that rested in front of him was a tall, middle aged man smiling down at Cronian who, in all the excitement had falled on to his rear.

"Huh," Cronian blinked, snapping himself out of the stunned silence he currently found himself occupied with, and got back to his feet. "Yeah, I'm fine. This….thing just shocked the hell out of me is all."

The man laughed.

"Ja, it'll shock the hell out of you if you don't know its coming. I take it, this is your first time respawning."

Cronian looked a little taken aback by that term.

"Respawning? That's a crude way to put it…"

"Hm, that it is. You going to the hangar then?"

"Uhm, yeah, I am."

"Then climb aboard, this takes us straight there."

Cronian looked at the what was to transport him to the hangar and shrugged.

"Ok then," he said and climbed in to the passenger car, and shook the mans hand. "Name's Cronian."

The man cheerfully shook Cronians hand.

"Lysander, pleasure to meet you."


	3. Chapter 3

-1Chapter 3

It didn't take much time for Cronian and Lysander to get to the hangar; a hangar that was rectangular in shape with solid steel walls that were crisscrossed with pipes, hoses, cabling and with enough floor space to house dozens of fighter craft. That alone, the sheer size of the hangar bay, dazzled Cronian as he attempted to take it all in, so much so that he almost failed to notice the crowd of people wearing flight suits walking past him. _I think next time I read a plaque that says 'Hangar', I'll assume they're being overtly modest about the size of the thing_, he thought to himself.

Its definitely a pretty good sized hanger, isn't it," Lysander said in his thick accent, obviously amused by Cronians stunned stare.

Pretty big? Yeah, you could say that," Cronian replied in disbelief, nodding down to the hangar floor that filled with pilots, deck crew, and space craft. "I'm going to get lost down there."

"No worries, no doubt there's somebody down there waiting to get you to where you need to be."

"I hope so," Cronian swallowed to clear his throat. "Where is it ,exactly, that you need to be?"

"Me? Oh, well, my squad-mates are actively engaged in a defensive action over the mining rock Torrential," Lyander said, gesturing out in to space. "In fact there's a couple of us on that rock helping aid in evacuation of the people living there, since the Boraxians have landed on the thing for some reason and we're short of ground troops in the area…"

"They actually landed on the thing?"

"Ja, weird, isn't it? Normally they'd blow it up. Maybe they want our mining facility intact, who knows…

"Maybe," Cronian said, perplexed. "Do you mind if I help?"

Lysander hoisted his own duffle on to his shoulder and sized Cronian up.

"Well, it's not like we require much outside assistance," Lysander said with a half smile. "But, _ja_, I wouldn't mind having your help. You not part of a squadron, are you?"

"No, haven't been assigned to one yet."

"Assigned," Lysander laughed. "You pick the squadron or they pick you. You don't get assigned unless its absolutely necessary, but we'll go over that later. There's a war to fight you know. I'll meet you in orbit in fifteen or so; buy you some time for you to get reacquainted with your bird."

With that Lysander walked quickly away down the flight of stairs, where at the end a technician shook his hand, pointed his hand in the direction they needed to go and they both walked in to the bustling mass of activity. With a shrug, Cronian proceeded down the black stairs, scanning the hangar floor in front of him, wondering why it was so busy here before he was hit by the realization that he had certainly not been the only one that had emerged out of tub of white jello. The sheer number of pilots emerging on to the hangar floor was staggering, and Cronian was nearly at a loss as to what to think of them all. _We must have taken a severe beating out there, _he thought to himself dismally. _I hope Diamonblade didn't get killed as well…_

"Mister Cronian?"

Cronian looked to where the voice was coming from.

"Mister Cronian, I'm Chief Westen," the man in the dark stained working trousers said, not standing far from where the flight of stairs ended. "I'm here to show you to your fighter, sir. We don't have much time, as you can see we have a lot of you pilots that need to get back up there."

"Right," Cronian said, shaking the mans hand, and hoisting his duffle over his shoulder with his other. "Lead the way Chief."

Westen nodded, turned and walked towards open end of the hangar with Cronian in tow, ducking under the wing of a large, steel grey fighter that was called the Goliath for its tough skin and heavy armament. Winding threw the bustling crowd of pilots and assorted deck crew they made their way it became apparent to Cronian that he had walked by every single space craft that the Ajaxian Legion had in service, and couldn't help but be reminded that the Ajaxian casualty rate at the opening stages of the war had been far worse then anybody had previously expected.

"Chief," Cronian said, stepping over a hose that was trailing towards an unseen ship that was being fueled. "How bad were we hit out there? This all looks like we were totally overran."

"It does look that way doesn't it, sir," Westen said. "Several thousand pilots were shot down in the initial fighting in the 'Roids, most ended up showing up here shortly after the LC was chosen to lead. Just so happened that the other three Legions were able to get organized much quicker then we were."

"I did notice that," Cronian said, thinking back on how he had been caught nearly all alone against a much larger Krilgorian force far away from where a significant effort to counter would have been able to take place. "Spread out and unorganized…"

"Pretty much sir," Westen said, taking a right turn to walk around a series of craft that were parked close enough together that walking through them would have been out of the question.

"Are those repair ships?" Cronian asked, as he looked over the large, rectangular space craft that they were walking around. "How old are those things?"

"Older then we'd like, but we're short on resources right now to be able to mass produce the new birds fast enough to get them where they're needed," the Chief said, turning left once he cleared the last repair ship. "And those old reppers are the best thing we have right now to support fleet ops and gather the immediate resources to remedy our construction needs."

"Ah, I guess that makes sense," Cronian replied, following Westen close as to not lose him in the crowded room they were traversing. "Wow, I sound like I haven't a clue as to whats going on, huh?"

"No worries, sir," Westen chuckled. "Its my job to know, and yours to kill the bad guys."

"Right, I'll keep that in mind. Oh, is this one mine?" He asked as they stopped in front a Flight of Independence, one that looked like it had shiny fresh coat of paint applied to it.

"Yes, sir," Westen nodded. "She's the basic fighter, straight out of the factory. No modular upgrades, because quite frankly at the moment their hard to come by for the pilots coming out of the cloning bays. So we're forced to give you the raw thing until you can manage to get a hold of another Chief who may be able to help you out."

"Parts supply low for the mods?"

"No, sir," Westen cracked a smile. "Just extreme reluctance to give them out to pilots coming out of this hangar…"

"Oh, so in other words, we don't get the cool toys until we learn to keep our ships in one piece when we go out there," Cronian said, somewhat grudgingly. "Makes sense, I think. Alright, anything else I should know?"

"Only that you're AI…"

"AI?"

"…yes, you're AI has insisted she now has the rights to override the controls that allow herself to be heard. I guess she didn't much enjoy you getting blown up."

"I have an AI?"

"Yes, you didn't know?"

"Had no idea."

"That would explain why she wanted those overrides."

"I'm not sure if I'm comfortable with that."

"Oh," Westen smiled. "She was much too convincing to ignore."

"Ok," Cronian sighed. "Anything else?"

"Her name is Le'ael.'

"Le'ael?"

"Yes, it's a good idea for pilots to know the names of the AI's. Other then that though, your helmet is in your seat," Westen said, shaking Cronians hand. "Good luck sir."

"Thanks, you too."

"Hah, ground crews will be available for when you're ready to take off, in the meantime I have more pilots to get to."

"Right," Cronian said, nodding in agreement. "That's why I wished you luck as well."

Westen just chuckled and walked off.

Cronian repositioned his duffle on his shoulder and walked up to the fighter, running his hands over its smooth surface, moving his fingers deftly under the fuselage as he inspected for possible stress fractures that could be present--incase the fighters was pulled from an old warehouse somewhere in the rush to get fighters in to space. Finding no such cracks, he looked over the gun mounts positioned between the wing and the fuselage and directly behind the cockpit ensuring they were properly mounted. Satisfied, he turned back to the cockpit, climbed up the attached ladder, tossed the duffle in behind the seat, placed a foot on the floor, and grabbed his helmet as he slid in to the seat to get ready to take off.

"Easy," a woman's voice came from a pair of speakers built in to his chair. "There's some sensitive equipment back there."

"Huh," Cronian said, looking around inside the cockpit, looking for the AI. "Sorry, usually there's room back there…"

"There is room, I'm just saying be careful."

In front of Cronian, on what appeared to be a small holo-projector built in to left side of the cockpit, flickered in to existence a three inch tall woman dressed in well fitting pilots uniform with long, bright violet hair that was done up in a long braid that reached down to her knees. Had he not already met one holographic AI since his 'rebirth', Cronian may have been a little more surprised to see another too-good-looking glowing AI looking right at him with her arms crossed over her chest.

"You must be Le'ael."

"And you must be Cronian,"Le'ael said a with a hint of anger in her voice. "Before I tell you the condition of our Flight…"

"_Our _Flight?"

"…yes, _our _Flight. This flying weapon you so callously threw away just happens to be my home, and your fighter. So yes, _our _Flight. May I continue?"

Cronian was slightly taken aback, but nodded anyways.

"Before I tell you the status of this fighter, I need you to swear to me that you will do everything within your abilities to not get us blown up--again."

"I did everything I could last time--" Cronian said, feeling the need to defend himself.

"No, you didn't. You sat around and let yourself get overwhelmed by superior numbers; and failed to use the hyper drive to jump to the nearest friendly controlled stargate or outpost for repair. You instead tried to out fly a much faster and more heavily armed Microw Fighter!"

"…hyper drive? In the middle of all those rocks?"

"Yes, the hyper drive! A quick straight shot away from the asteroids would have been safer then sitting out there with all those hungry Krilgorian sharks," she fumed. Shaking her head before tucking a strand of loose hair back behind her ear before she continued. "But we're steering away from what I was asking of you. _Will you swear to do everything in your power to ensure that this fighter does not come to serious harm._"

Cronian stared at her in surprise at the tone behind her demand.

"Ok, ok, I swear…I swear," he said, raising his hands in surrender as she shot him a look that could kill. "…sorry for blowing us up earlier…"

"Great, now that that's over with…" she sighed. "This Flight is, as far as I can tell from my diagnostics, as new as they come. Which makes sense, since they've been pumping fighters and the like out of the factories as fast as they can. Everything checks out on my end, navigation, weapons, comms, thrusters, and _hyper drive._ All that needs to be done is for you to test everything manually when we get out there."

"Ok," Cronian said, slipping his helmet on. "We'll be testing all that shortly I'd imagine. We're heading back to the 'Roids," he said, motioning to a deckhand to disconnect the ladder from the cockpit. Once the ladder was removed, Cronian flipped a switch and the cockpits bubble canopy slid down, hissed closed and the fighter woke as a sleeping dragon would with the primary and secondary thrusters activating for lift off.

Everybody who was near the Flight of Independence quickly scattered, giving the now levitating fighter a wide berth as to avoid being accidentally knocked down by the crafts maneuvering thrusters. After a moment, the fighter was safely above the milling crowd, and after quickly checking the air space around him for any other spacecraft that may have lifted off at the same time he had, Cronian throttled forward, kicking the main forward thrusters in to action, propelling the vehicle quickly out of the hangar and in to the open air. Once he was safely clear of the hangar, Cronian spared a look down at the massive megalopolis that was Ajaxus Prime. Even though this planet was his home, he never ceased to be amazed by the sheer size of the planet-wide city, and couldn't help but admire it from afar for even as he climbed in altitude, accelerating towards the vacume of space, the city continued to stretch over the horizon and in to the darkness forming a dazzling view of lights that spanned the planets one and only continent. Despite his admiration for the way Ajaxus Prime looked from afar, Cronian much preferred to be in his fighter, flying through the vast emptiness of space and engaging the enemy whenever possible. He was in his element out here, and he loved it.

"You have an incoming message, Cronian, from Lysander," Le'Ael said as she once again flickered in to existence, looking at Cronian with her arms comfortably crossed.

"Oh," Cronian said, looking up as a dark blue, compact looking craft, called the Blue Bird Bomber swung up and positioned itself off his starboard wing. "Go ahead and put it through."

"Hey Cronian," Lysanders thick accented voice came through loud and clear within the cockpit. "The stargate to the 'Roids is active right now; lets go ahead and use it, it will cut down a considerable amount out of our travel time."

"Acknowledged, Lysander," Cronian said, nodding towards the dark cockpit of the Blue Bird Bomber. "Lead the way and I'll meet you there."

"Roger, Lysander out," he said and moments later the Blue Bird's aft engines flashed a brilliant white, propelling the ship forward to where it vanished in a flash of light.

"Hmph, showoff," Le'Ael muttered.

"Huh? Lysander?" Cronian asked, puzzled.

"No, his pretty AI," she said in a mocking tone. "She set those jump coordinates for him to exit very close to the gate."

"Well," Cronian raised an eyebrow, smiling at the whole thing. "Can you do better?"

"Hah," she exclaimed. "Of course I can."

She paused for a mere second before continuing.

"Coordinates set, may I activate the hyper dive, or do you want that privilege?"

Cronian couldn't help but laugh.

"Go ahead, engage…or something."

If Le'Aeal was at all surprised by his reaction, she only showed it for a second or two, but did what she was given permission to do and the stars around the cockpit suddenly stretched and then vanished, replaced by a shimmering blue tunnel. Cronian looked down at Le'Aeal and watched her as she stared out ahead of the Flight, concentrating strongly on the jump coordinates that she had entered in to the nav computer. _Its good to see she takes her job seriously, _he thought, knowing full well that whatever she was exactly concentrating was beyond his simple mind to figure out.

"Leaving hyperspace in five," she said. "Three, two, one."

The instant she finished her count down the shimmering tunneled suddenly seemed to open up at the end and directly ahead the large, ancient stargate that glowed and flickered as it's the several rings that comprised it rotated in opposite directions from each other, seemed to throw itself at Cronian and Le'Ael as they exited hyperspace, and before Cronian could let out a startled exclamation he found they had came to rest between two of the seven large, ominously spinning rings.

Without saying a word, Cronian looked at Le'Ael in wide eyed admiration. "Told you I could do better."

"I'm just glad you know what your doing," he said.

That prompted a smug smile out of the AI.

"Oh, Lysander's calling again," she said, nodding to him as she opened the channel.

"Go ahead Lysander," Cronian said.

"Cut it a little close there," Lysander said, "Miscalculate your jump?"

Cronian grinned in spite of the fact that a minute ago he almost was in need of a new pair of underpants.

"No," he said, winking at Le'Ael before taking a look outside the cockpit and taking note of the many, many running lights of other spacecraft milling about not too far from the gate "I assure you those coordinates were intentional."

"Hm, nicely done then, you first I suppose, since you managed to cut ahead of the line that's forming out here."

Cronian looked down at Le'Ael who was doing her best to control her giggling.

"Roger, see you on the other side, Cronian out," he said, nodding to Le'Aeal. "Get us to the 'Roids then."

"Already working on it," she replied and in seconds a solid beam of light hit the Flight, quickly enveloped it, and in the blink of an eye the stargate shot the Flight of Independence out in to the vast reaches of space.

Cronian opened his eyes, and blinked several times, allowing his eyes to recover from the brilliant light that had just a moment ago filled his cockpit. Once his vision cleared he peered out the bubble canopy and found himself watching an asteroid lazily drifting by, as if it was making an attempt at sneaking out of the asteroid field without being detected by the other asteroids.

"We're here," Le'Ael said, off handedly confirming what Cronian already guessd himself. "All systems are good to go, hyper drive is in standby charging, and clock is re-synced back to normal time."

Cronian looked at the clock that was between his knees and directly below the HUD and watched a count down timer go from one second to a three hour interval, with an indicator next to the timer switching from _T-7 _to _T-8._ _Only twenty four hours in to this war, _he thought shortly before multiple ships flashed in to existence nearby and floated in place for a few moments before accelerating forward and disappearing in to the large expanse of asteroids in the distance. Soon, Lysander and his Blue Bird arrived in a similar show of light and took up position in front of Cronians Flight.

"That took longer then I liked," Lysander popped up, Le'Ael automatically putting him through on the comms. "But there was a couple others who managed to get closer to the gate then we did as well."

"Ah, it happens" Cronian said. "Would your navigator like to swap notes with my navigator?"

Lysander laughed.

"She says no thanks. Anyway, just follow my lead, we'll show you where my squad is fighting. At least until our hyper drives charge back up, then we can jump there. Should be about five minutes."

"Roger," Cronian replied, and matched Lysanders course and speed as he thrusted forward towards the asteroid field. "I take it your navigator has a safe jumping corridor to get to that rock?"

"She assures me she does," Lysander replied.

"Hah, roger that, on your six. Lead the way."


End file.
